Page 45 of Scout

“Yeah.”

More than okay.

It’s quiet after that, just the soft hum of night outside the windows and the slow rhythm of three heartbeats tangled up in one bed. And for once, I don’t feel restless. I don’t feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop or for one of them to pull away.

Scout’s here. Kendrix is here. I’m here.

And maybe—just maybe—we’re not broken people trying to fill gaps. Maybe we’re building something whole. I close my eyes and let myself drift, wrapped up in warmth, in the quiet, inthem.

18

Scout

I wake up warm.Like, really warm.

For a second, I don’t move. Just keep my eyes closed and try to pretend the heat radiating off two very male bodies isn’t making me spiral.

Because I’m not supposed to feel like this.

This wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

It was a job. A one-off weekend. Something I said yes to because the money was good and because… okay, fine, because I thought I needed to get them out of my system.

Kendrix with his careful hands and stormy eyes. Xavier with that cool, confident thing he does that makes my knees go weak in the worst (best) ways.

I thought if I spent a few days with them, helped themfigure their shit out, then maybe I could let this whole mess go. Let them go.

But now I’m lying here with Kendrix curled into my back and Xavier’s arm slung over my waist like he’s holding me down on purpose. And I don’t feel detached. I don’t feel clear.

I feel… something.

And that scares the shit out of me.

I carefully wriggle free from between them, trying not to wake either of them, and pad into the kitchen after throwing on some sleep shorts and a borrowed hoodie that definitely isn’t mine—it smells like Kendrix. Or Xavier. Or maybe both.

I busy myself with the coffee maker, keeping my hands moving because my brain won’t stop. This isn’t just about last night. It’s about the way they look at me. As if they actuallyseeme. As if I’m more than just a service.

When the machine beeps, I pour three mugs and try to act like it’s just another morning. As if I regularly wake up with two very hot men after a very hot night of doing… everything.

The floor creaks behind me. I don’t even have to look to know it’s them.

But I do.

I turn—and there they are.

Both of them.

In gray sweatpants.

Jesus Christ.

“Morning,” Xavier mumbles, voice still thick with sleep as he takes the mug I hand him. His fingers brush mine and something zings up my spine.

“Good morning,” I say back, keeping it chill.

Kendrix steps around the island and grabs the last mug. “How are you feeling?” he asks.

I force a smile. “Good. Last night was… fun.”